I've Been Thinking You Over
by chalantness
Summary: It's just her and Steve here and she doesn't have to worry about being on her guard with him. She never has.


**Title:** _I've Been Thinking You Over  
_ **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word Count:** ~3,400  
 **Characters:** Steve/Maria  
 **Prompt:** "French kiss"  
 **Summary:** It's just her and Steve here and she doesn't have to worry about being on her guard with him. She never has.

 **For:** queenofthevalients. You have no idea how ridiculously excited I am to share this with you, babe. It only took _one whole year_ to get it out to you, but Happy Belated Birthday! I know I still owe you for your 21st, though. I'll try not to take as long.

 **I've Been Thinking You Over**

Late nights are pretty much a given when you're the one running the show.

She hasn't had to pull as many of them in the last few weeks now that operations with the New Avengers have been up for a few months. ( _Thank god_.) But she'd been pulling quite a few of them when they were getting things up and running, and they still happen now and then. That's just going to come with job, especially when you're the one everyone comes to. And no, she's technically not the one in charge—on paper, that's Steve—but she handles all of the research and operations so he can focus on the execution and the field work. It's no one's fault that her part just comes with more paperwork. She also wants to keep everything under her thumb for right now. They saw what happened when SHIELD expanded the wrong way.

That's not going to happen a second time. Even if she has to spend every night in her office processing paperwork and running background checks herself.

She knows she doesn't have to do all of this by herself, though. Steve would sit here with her all night, every night, if she asked him to. And she probably should, just so that there's two of them and things will get done faster, but it's not as if she ever plans to stay late. It just happens.

A quarter after ten, she leans back in her huge chair and closes her eyes as she rubs her fingertips over her temple. She just needs to update the medical records Helen handed off to her earlier today, which probably won't take more than maybe ten minutes, and then she'll let herself go home. But she needs to just rest her eyes for a few minutes. She knows Tony had designed the equipment so that it's easier to stare at monitors and holograms all day, since that's pretty much what everyone will be doing, but still. That doesn't mean there _won't_ be any strain doing so, especially when you've been up for sixteen hours straight. _Thank god_ she can generally come in whenever she wants, which means she doesn't have to be back here at any specific time in the morning. She can sleep in for an extra hour so maybe she won't feel like hell. Because as soon as she steps into the building, she needs to be focused.

A faint beeping startles her into sitting up, even though it really shouldn't, since there's only one other person who has clearance to her office.

Steve gives her this smile as she presses a hand over her heart. (She's _tired_ , and he really did scare the shit out of her for a second.) "Steve," she breathes. "What are you doing here?"

"I could be asking you the same thing," he replies, crossing the room towards her desk. His tone is light but his expression is a little stern. She knows how he feels about her overworking herself.

"I'm almost done," she promises, picking up a folder.

But then he's stepping around her desk, pulling the folder from her hands. "Maria," he says.

"Steve," she replies, quirking an eyebrow.

The corner of his lips tug into a bit of a smirk. _God_ , she really shouldn't be finding her co-worker (co- _manager_ , technically) so sexy when he does that, but he is, and she's allowed to notice how attractive he is. He's also a huge sweetheart, and the fact that he's here this late just like she is proves it. She knows that he was in and out of the hospital wing all day to check in on Wanda after she'd taken a knife to her side in the field. She'll heal just fine, but she has to stay under watch overnight for a few more days, and Maria knows Steve hates having her stuck in a hospital room on her own. It's routine and it can't be helped, but still. Maria's willing to bet he's been at her bedside this whole time, until she finally fell asleep.

She finds herself smiling. He's a _good_ man. As if she could ever forget that.

"What?" he asks, a bit of amusement in his voice as he sits on the edge of her desk. He definitely caught her staring.

Not that she was even trying to be subtle. Actually, she hadn't noticed herself staring until about a second before he got that knowing grin on his face, but whatever. It's just her and Steve here and she doesn't have to worry about being on her guard with him. She never has.

"Nothing," she replies, gaze lingering for a moment before turning back to her monitors. A few keystrokes and she's pulled up Wanda's medical file.

Steve hands her back the folder without having to be asked, but he doesn't move from his spot, either. So it's pretty much a given that he's staying with her until she's finished.

She doesn't mind, even though it feels like she should, even a little. She can tell that he's hovering to make sure she finishes this last task and then call it a night, since he knows she could probably find a dozen more things that need to get done if she wanted to, and she'd sit here and try to knock them all out tonight just because she's already staying late.

(What? She likes to be productive.)

She matches the paperwork Helen gave her to the updates the woman already made to the file, and it all checks out, so she authorizes everything and saves it to the system. It feels unnecessary to have to do this with every little thing, but it's just part of the precaution they'll have to take for a while.

Once she's finished, she exhales, tipping her head back as she rolls out the kinks in her neck. She really needs to sit a little straighter. "Ready to go?" she asks.

"Yeah," he answers, and there's something to his voice that has her peeking at him from the corner of her eye. His gaze is on her, following the curve of her neck as she rolls it out slowly, and she feels her lips twitch into a smile.

No, this wouldn't be the first time she's caught him staring.

And he doesn't really _stare_ , but—his gaze lingers sometimes, tracing her movements. Somehow she can always just feel when he's looking at her, and sometimes she'll actually catch him, and he'll blink as their eyes meet, but he won't avert his gaze, either. He'll just give her this small smile that makes her want to bite her lower lip, because _god_ , this man can be so sexy sometimes without realizing it. Or maybe he does. She can't really tell, which is a little frustrating. She's always been good at reading people, but Steve is hard for her to decipher.

Because she _feels_ like she reads him very well. They're almost always on the same page, trading the same thoughts. They have an understanding.

But there are moments where she thinks that – that maybe when he says something, he could mean something else. She doesn't know where it comes from. Maybe because she wants to assume that he's open with everyone, and that he treats them like they're so important to him, because that's always how he's treated her, ]]. And if that's not the case, then—

Then she'd have to come to terms with the fact that he's been _flirting_ with her this whole time.

And… she doesn't know what to do with that.

She stands up, starting to gather her papers, because she needs to not follow this train of thought again. Not while he's actually here this time, and she's tired, and he's _looking_ at her with that vague expression, and she doesn't trust herself not to do something rash. Maybe that's kind of the opposite of what she's used to doing as an agent, but that's just how she's wired when it comes to her life outside of work. She's guarded. Of course she is, and for good reasons. It's how she keeps herself stable through all of the chaos that gets thrown her way. And her relationship with Steve both emotionally and professionally is too important to risk ruining on the fantasy that _maybe_ he might have a thing for her, too, and maybe he—

A hand covers hers, and she blinks, thoughts trailing off as she turns her head to meet Steve's gaze. "I can hear you thinking," he says, lips quirking.

"What?" she asks.

He rubs the pad of his thumb over her wrist, and her eyelids flutter slightly. That feels _nice_. "You're always analyzing everything," he tells her, voice soft. "Which is what makes you so great at being in charge, I know. But sometimes you've got to turn it off."

She breathes out a laugh. "Yeah, that's not… exactly easy for me. I think, and I plan, and I plot the next course of action." She shrugs a shoulder. "My mind is just always _on_."

"Even when you're distracted?" He stands, too, stepping closer as he turns her wrist, smoothing his thumb over her pulse. "Maybe you just need a distraction."

She takes a step forward. "Depends," she says.

"On what?"

He takes hold of her other wrist, pulling her close enough for her to count his eyelashes if she wanted to. "On the distraction," she breathes, remembering to answer his question.

His eyes drop onto her lips, lingering, and then shift back up. "Can I kiss you?"

Her nod in reply is a little too eager for her tastes, but she doesn't really care, because then his lips slant over hers and she kind of forgets about everything else. He steps closer, moves her so that she's pressed between him and the edge of the desk, and she reaches forward, impulsively grasping for his shirt, except he's still got his hands around her wrists. His grip is not tight, at all, and she could pull away with ease if she tried. But she doesn't really want to. She lets her arms relax, and he brings her hands down, pressing her palms against the desk.

He doesn't _tell_ her not to move them off, but she kind of gets that that's what he wants. She grips the edge of the glass with her fingers.

They – they should at least talk about this. She wants this, wants him, and she knows that he wants her, too. But they should at least _say_ something—

"Stop thinking," he murmurs, and then licks at the seam of her lips, pressing his tongue into her mouth when she parts them. She makes this noise from the back of her throat.

His hand comes up, fingers tucking under the bun in her hair, and, because he's seen her fix it up so many times, he quickly finds which pin to pull to unravel the whole thing. He combs his fingers through her hair, massaging at her scalp as he combs the rest of the pins out, letting them fall onto the desk. She very nearly whimpers. _God_ , that feels _amazing_.

Then he moves his lips off of hers and ducks his head, pressing a kiss to the column of her neck, and she tips her head back.

"Steve _,_ " she breathes, because one of his hands is on her leg just above her knee, teasing patterns into her skin with the pads of his fingers, and it's kind of driving her crazy. He hooks an arm around her waist and lifts her so that she's sitting on the edge of her desk, then tugs at the zipper on the side of her skirt, stepping between her knees. Her skirt gathers around her hips with her legs spread like this, and he continues teasing his fingers up the inside of her thigh, applying only a little pressure as he sucks down on her pulse. " _Steve_ ," she sighs.

" _Stop thinking_ ," he says into her skin, and then brings his hand between them, swiping at the damp material of her panties, and she _can't_ really think of anything after that.

That's kind of the whole point.

He presses his thumb against her again, circling it once, and she rolls her hips almost automatically, as best as she can with how she's sitting. It's not much, and he moves his fingers away before she can actually get anything to happen.

Steve Rogers is a _tease_. Somehow she's not all that surprised.

"You're so beautiful," he says, brushing kisses along her collarbone. She hums softly, feeling herself smile. He tells her this all the time. "You know that, right?"

He brings his hand between them again, passing his thumb over once, twice, three times, and she moans out, " _Yes_."

(Well. She didn't mean to sound so conceited.)

He chuckles softly, lifts his head to press a kiss to her cheek, and her eyelids flutter open to meet his gaze. He smiles at her, leans forward to kiss her lips softly, slowly, and honestly? It's enough to almost make her whimper, too. She can't remember the last time she's been with anyone else, but she _can_ remember that it's never, ever felt like this before.

He slides his hands up her skirt, hooking under the waistband of her panties, and she lifts her hips up so he can slide them down her legs.

It'd be embarrassing, how wet she already is ( _when_ did that _happen?_ ) if she were with anyone else.

He rubs his fingers against her and her hips twitch, shifting forward as he just barely passes over her bundle of nerves. She gnaws on her lower lip, but then he brings his other hand up and runs his thumb over the seam of her lips to get her to part them, and this little mewl makes its way out.

"What are you thinking of?"

He drags his fingers through her wetness and her mind sort of just _blanks_. "Nothing," she manages, and then swallows, hard, and corrects herself: "You."

"Either answer would've been fine," he says, and she lets out a breathy chuckle, watching him lower himself onto his knees in front of her. He sets both of his palms against the insides of her thighs, pressing them further apart, and she grips the edge of the table so tight that she very nearly loses feeling. "Is this alright?" he asks.

 _Kind of too far along for that_ , is her very first thought. She licks her lips and nods.

"Because just tell me to stop, and I'll stop right now." But the way he glances at her slick folds tells her that that's the last thing he wants. "Just say the word and I'll—"

"Now who's the one overthinking things?" she interrupts. He laughs, and she does a little, too, except half of her is still barely processing that this is even happening right now.

Not because she didn't expect it. She thinks, in the back of her mind, she's always _known_ that Steve was interested, and he knew she was, too. That's why it's so easy for them to blur the lines between friendliness and flirting. For whatever reason, they've just been buying their time until they got over themselves long enough to actually _do_ something about it.

 _Life's too short_ , her thoughts muse.

But then he flattens his tongue against her, dragging it up, and her senses just dissolves into pleasure.

She pushes her hips closer, and he lifts one of her legs up and over his shoulder, pressing his tongue into her without warning. Her nails scrape along the underside of the glass as she grips onto it too tightly, tipping her head back. He curls his tongue a few times, making her leg twitch, and then pulls out and closes his mouth over her, and she very nearly yelps. This sound escapes her throat that barely even sounds like her, but she honestly doesn't care. _Fuck_ , he's _so_ good at this. She's not at all surprised. He's always been eager to put others first.

He works his tongue against her, and she tries to roll her hips with him, but she can't get any kind of rhythm going. He's doing that on purpose.

" _Steve_ ," she cries out when he sucks over her clit. He flicks against it once, twice, and her leg quivers.

She'll come in seconds if he keeps doing that.

But then he pulls his mouth off of her, pressing his face against the inside of her thigh and then kissing the skin there, and she shifts her hips up in response, needing _more_.

She bites down so hard on her lip that she swears she draws blood. She doesn't think that it's his intention, but she's very, very closing to just begging.

He teases along the side of her clit, slowly, pressing her legs apart when she reflexively tries to close them and bring him closer, and she lets out a stuttering breath. He works her so close again, her muscles tensing as breaths grow more and more ragged, but when she's close again, he _stops_.

She exhales sharply, frustrated, and peers down at him to find his gaze already on her. She can't see him smirking, but she knows he probably is.

"Don't be an _ass_ ," she snaps. Her voice is too breathless to sound all that threatening, though.

He _laughs_ , breath warm against her skin.

Then his mouth is on her again and this noise makes its way out of her throat. He presses his tongue into her, curling over and over as her hips push against his mouth, and then he flattens it against her, lapping all the way up to her clit, and she gasps. He rolls his tongue against her bundle of nerves once, slowly, then twice, a little faster, and she gets out, " _Oh_ my _god,_ " as he works over her. "Steve," she moans. He closes his mouth over her, kissing slowly, and that's all it really takes to send her tipping over. She slams her palm against the desk somewhere behind her for balance as she throws her head back, rolling her hips against him. He continues lapping at her folds, dragging his tongue dangerously close to her bundle of nerves as she lets go, dragging out her high. She's not crying out—just letting out these little whimpers and pants—and he hums against her like it's exactly what he wants to listen to.

He keeps working his tongue over her, and her arm hurts a little as her body goes limp, trying to catch her breath.

" _Stop_ , stop," she breathes, pushing gently at his forehead. He'll make her come again if he keeps that up, but she really, really just wants to take a second.

She tilts her head, staring down at him through half-lidded eyes as he looks up at her. His lips are glistening, and when he licks them, keeping their gazes locked, she _moans_ a little. It's just _unfair_ for him to be so fucking sexy.

"Good?" he asks, and she lets out a laugh, because _obviously_. But she knows he's not just asking for an ego thing. He wants to make sure.

He's crazy for thinking that it was anything _but_ good for her.

"Very," she replies. He nods, lifting himself off of his knees and stepping between her legs again.

"What're you thinking about?"

She laughs again, taking his face between her hands. She strokes her thumbs over the apples of his cheeks and he smiles, turning to press a kiss to the inside of one of her palms. "Just you," she answers, and then brings their lips together, kissing him. She can taste herself on his lips, and it's _strange_ , but it's not unpleasant, either. "I want _this_ , and not just tonight."

He nods, holding her gaze. She can practically feel his certainty. "I do, too," he tells her, and she closes her eyes, lips pulling into a smile.

This… this could work. _They_ could work. And honestly, she's never really doubted that.

It'll be difficult, because of who they are, and what they have to carry together, but, well. They've always made a good team. They'll figure it all out as—

She gasps, eyes flying open as his fingertips press against her sensitive folds, her leg twitching in response. There's a _smirk_ on his lips, and before she can even pull together a though, he's slowly pressing two fingers into her, and she's digging her nails into his biceps as she pulls him closer, rolling her hips.

" _Stop_ _thinking_."


End file.
